November is NaNoWriMo and while I do have delusions of writing a novel, (Killer Krafters…I ain’t forget you, boo) I did not choose to make that my goal for the month. Instead, I decided to participate in NaBloWriMo – National Bloggers Writers Month. I’m late to the party. I was meant to start of November 1st but, like those crunches I promised myself, it did not happen. On November 2nd I was all, “in for a penny, in for a pound” and took a nap instead of logging on but on November 3rd I woke up before everyone in the house, gave myself a stern talking to, and got to work.
Daily blogging is, well, I’ll let Nicole tell the people what we’re dealing with:
Some of my dissatisfaction come from me missing the old days of blogging. Having adventures and then sharing them, making silly posts about silly things. With the world heading to hell in a gasoline soaked hand basket, it seems frivolous to be writing about my dirty old lady crush on Sam Sanders (y’all!), the fact that I have kittens (ohmahgah are they stinking cute, the destructive beasts) and other such non-sequiturs in the name of getting you to read. Some of my dissatisfaction comes from the fact that I can’t access my blog at work due to a virus that left me down for nearly a year and my job is like, “oh no you don’t!” Mostly, I am mainly feeling shy about blogging because the stuff that that gasoline soaked basket is full of, is stuff that I don’t know all the things about. I am so worried that I will write something and somebody’s gonna “at” me and I’ll be all:
Let me get out of my head. I am so worried about the ‘what ifs” that no one even asked that I am no enjoying the now that is good. Instead of bumming myself out, I will think of things to share and who knows. I’ll get back into the rhythm and be all:
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